


I'll Stay

by Angel Blue (New_Blue_Stuff)



Series: 'Morning Honey' Universe [2]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, May Want To Read That First, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Soulmates, Swearing, Takes Place During 'Morning Honey', death mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/New_Blue_Stuff/pseuds/Angel%20Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger has nightmares. Mark wakes him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unwritten scene from Morning Honey, it does make sense without having read the previous fic, but I wouldn't recommend it? Enjoy x

It's that familiar screaming again. Mark's eyes fly open, he's out of bed before he can even think about it. 

Roger hasn't had it happen in so long. Mark thought they'd been making progress. 

There's a routine for this. Mark wakes Roger up from his nightmares, and Roger clams up. Roger retreats back within himself. It's like April died all over again. The screaming never ever stops. It's been years. Years. 

Mark passes Collins on his way to Roger's room. This isn't Collins's responsibility, the mark that Mark was born with dictates this. He's the one to pull Roger from his nightmares. Mark's one soulmark. 

"Send him my love," Collins says. 

Mark can't help but laugh. Roger needs it, even if he pretends he's still okay, "I'll try."

Mark pushes Roger's bedroom door open. 

There's a burnt-out candle to the side of his bed. There's a bit of light coming in through the window. It illuminates the sweat covering his body. It shows his mouth, contorting and grimacing in pain; primal noises escape from him. 

Mark's heart pulls downwards. He swallows and walks over. 

Roger shakes in his sleep. Cringing, Mark leans over and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

Eyes flying wide, Roger shouts out in shock. He pushes at the covers, attempting to escape him.

Mark watches Roger's eyes come back from his dream. He waits for him to catch his breath, crack a joke. 

That isn't what happens. 

Roger jumps back. Eyes wide. Roger examines Mark in the darkness of dawn. Then, he begins sobbing. The breathing, still hard from the fear, is wracked with sadness. Mark can't comprehend it. Eyes wide and mouth agape, he's stunned. 

"Roger..." The word gets caught up in Mark's throat. "It was a nightmare," he tries to explain. 

Rubbing at his face, Roger carries on crying. He's curled in on himself. 

"I'm s-s-sorry, just leave me, I'll be fine Mark...Thank you-' Roger stops, his voice breaking. There's a sick feeling in his stomach. There's a sick feeling all over him. 

Reluctantly, Mark sits on Roger's bed. This hasn't ever happened. Roger and Mark love each other, but it's just jokes. It's never more series than it has to be. 

Mark has only seen Roger cry once before. 

He swallows. Mark squeezes his hands into fists. "It's April, right?" Mark asks. 

The room is silent, except for Roger's breathing. Still loud, and irregular. The moment sits heavy. Roger's eyes glaze over, confirming it wordlessly to Mark. Roger looks at him after a second and grimaces. It's April, of course it is. Mark is about to carry on speaking when there's a knock at the door. 

Roger breaks down even further, "I woke up Collins too? Man," he whines. Covering his face, he tries to control himself. Stupid. This is stupid. 

Taking a deep breath, Mark gets up and runs to the door. Upon opening it, he finds a glass of water on the ground. There's no Collins to be seen. Mark picks it up. Bringing it over to Roger, and placing it on Roger's bedside table.

"He'll go back to sleep," Mark announces. 

Roger's getting his breathing under control, "You should too."

Roger stares at him. His shirt is soaked with sweat. His hair an unruly mess, although that's not unusual. 

Mark shakes his head. "That's not going to happen," Mark states. 

Roger rolls his eyes. "You're a-" His voice breaks, he swallows to correct it, "-stubborn asshole Cohen."

Mark laughs, smiling at the end,"Isn't that the way you like me though?"

There's streams of tears on Roger's cheeks. Those eyes of his are still wet. Mark gets up in search of a new shirt or tissue for Roger to use. 

Roger sits in bed with the covers up to his waist, and knows what he's doing. 

"I preferred you when I hadn't corrupted you yet," Roger says. His voice could be rough from the crying, the sleeping or the screaming. Maybe all three? 

Mark finds a box of tissues. He picks it up and makes his way back to the bed, where he passes it to Roger. 

"Are you giving me your whole 'I'm disaster' routine?" Mark jokes. 

Halfway through blowing his nose, Roger smiles at Mark. Mark's heart feels lighter. 

"I might be," Roger answers. 

Mark shakes his head. He puts his hand over Roger's leg and rests it there, comfort through layers of fabric. 

"I was fucking corrupted the moment I was born with that little blue flame on me," Mark points out. He shrugs. 

Roger laughs through tears again. "Someone really fucked you over up there then," Roger points to the cracked ceiling. Mark looks up for a second. 

Mark looks back at Roger. He raises an eyebrow. "Nobody's fucked me over," Mark nods to himself, "Well, you haven't."

Roger dabs at his cheeks with another tissue. The whites of his eyes are bright pink. The morning light is coming through the window and making him look paler. Roger remembers when he used to wake up early, look over at April's skin and be amazed by the brightness of it. He used to kiss it, until she'd wake up and tell him to quit it. 

That sick feeling comes back. 

"Do you think, if it's real... Heaven... April's..." Roger speaks through pain and tears. His crying is beginning to subside. He reaches for the glass of water, takes a sip, and returns it to the table. Mark watches him. 

"I think, yes, if there is," Mark answers. Roger smiles at him, Mark's head is tilted slightly to one side. 

Roger nods. There's sunlight coming in through the window, early morning light where it's more blue than yellow. Mark wishes for a split second, that he could capture the way his best friend looks. Roger, hair messy and eyes red raw, in this light is glorious. 

"Do you think she'd be proud of me?" Roger whispers. Roger hunches his shoulders forward, his palms facing down on his sheets, he looks to his left side. 

Mark's eyebrows shoot up. He squeezes Roger's leg until he looks at him. Mark nods, "Of course she would," Mark smiles, "She only ever wanted you to be happy."

Roger smiles, swallows, and wipes his tears. "Thank you," Roger says. Sighing, Mark relaxes. "Thank you for still being here," Roger continues, "Thank you for getting me off the drugs. Thank you for keeping me alive. Thank you for-"

"-Thank you for letting me do it," Mark interrupts.

The sounds of the city are starting to increase in volume. It's a big day, Maureen's having a protest later, who knows what could happen?

 "Will you stay?" Roger asks.

Mark raises an eyebrow, "Sure?"

Roger laughs. After folding in on himself completely, he sits upright. "I'm not asking you to fuck me Mark."

Mark snorts, they make eye contact and dissolve into laughter. There's still tears on Roger's face, but he loves to laugh when he's sad. 

"I'll stay. Is that better?" Mark asks, rolling his eyes. 

Roger scrunches his nose at Mark, "Maybe I don't want you to now?"

Mark flicks Roger in the foot. Grabbing it, Roger chuckles to himself. 

Smiling, Mark shivers. 

"Scooch over. It's too fucking cold for me to sit here," Mark orders. Standing up, he walks over to Roger's side. He gets under the covers too. 

Both of them are sitting up in Roger's bed. Roger faces Mark. 

'If Collins catches us, we'll never hear the end of it," Roger points out. 

Mark raises an eyebrow, "Why?"

Roger laughs, "Because we look like a husband and wife who just had a bad sexual encounter-"

"-But you've had plenty of those, right?"

Roger flicks Mark in the arm. Payback. "Fuck off," he says, still laughing. 

Mark shakes his head to himself. He lays down on his side. Taking the cue, Roger mirrors him. They face each other on their sides. Both of their marks facing up to the ceiling. Twin blue flames.  

"At least we're not passing around a cigarette?" Mark points out.

Roger nods, "Very true."

Mark doesn't feel the need to point out that Collins woke up at the noise too, and would understand why Roger wants him as company. This moment, he's content to leave it and let Roger have nice dreams. 

Roger's head grows emptier and emptier as they talk. He's tired. Drained. 

As he drifts off, he speaks to Mark. 

"I thought you were April, when I woke up, I thought you were..." That ache in Mark's heart returns, he cringes, recoiling at what Roger must have felt. Roger's eyes are barely open. "Be here when I wake up," he pleads. 

Mark nods, "You're not alone," Mark reminds him. 

Soon, Roger falls asleep. Mark follows him. The room stays draped in blue tinted light, and the nightmares don't return. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you thought and if you'd like more from this universe. Thank you xxx


End file.
